/srs
disclaimer: this story is based on true events from my life, please take all of this seriously. thank you.
ITS NOT A SELF-INSERT. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HEXWRTEbj1Ihttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HEXWRTEbj1Ihttps://www.youtube.com/watc...
That sounds like my alarm! Looks like it's time for me to get up and go to my work. I sit up in bed, groggily eyeing the time. My (e/c) orbitals widen at the sight the clock read. 9:50? ############
I began cursing, yet the filter forbade me from doing so. I shook my paw in the air, before whimpering slightly. My boss will be so mad at me! I ran a claw through my thick, silky, (h/l), (h/c) fur. I bore my teeth as I continued to curse and curse, pounds appearing before my mouth.
"############################ and with the ############## until I burst inside your ########################"
I began to walk outside, completely avoiding my parents gaze. They only ever let me live in the basement. 😢
It was only when I went outside did I realize I was wearing my jammies and had forgot to change! Oh well, there's no time.
Pajama image:
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Arriving at work, my supervisor looks me up and down. I see him lick his lips. "(Y/N)," he says, salivating slightly, before licking it all up into his gaping maw. He smirks slightly, bending his hips to meet my (smalll) frame. "And what would YOU be doing here, pookie?" He purrs into my ears.
Light blush dusts my cheeks. "U-Uh . . . Hopefully the boss doesn't decide to again . . ."
My supervisor's eyes light up in a rage. He growls, his orbitals turning a deep shade of crimson as he lashes out. "THAT SQUIMDADDLER. DOESN'T HE KNOW IT'S MATING SEASON??? I need myself a REAL boy."
"Please don't talk to me about your divorce again, Mistah Supervisor." I twiddle my thumbs, blushing at the implications of his divorce. My toes tickled eachother and I let out a little noise as he grasped my feet in his paws.
"THAT'S Kyle, to you. My name is Kyle, kitten. And you will ONLY refer to me by that name! And not 'Disappointment' as that is what my ex-wife used too call me!" said the supervisor, waggling his finger and his hips, before folding in half. "I don't miss my kids they knocked over all my chairs in my gamer pad because I'm 'half' a father."
"Ahem."
A booming echo reverberates in our ears. I whimper and run my paws through my tiny head. "NMGgnmnghhh . . ." I whine.
We both look up through our tearing orbitals to see . . .
